The Dimension of the Damned opened its infernal jaws to welcome Asher, swallowing him into a realm so far removed from the realm of the living, it could only be described as an eruption of desolation and fire.
It was a scene painted with the most twisted and nightmarish brush strokes; a place where the air was so thick with heat, metals would weep into oblivion instantaneously, succumbing to the relentless, unyielding temperature.
Above, there was no sky, no cerulean expanse painted with clouds or stars. Instead, a fractured mirror hung, an endless ceiling reflecting the hell below.
The land, if it could be called such, was a churning image of green-spewing volcanoes, each eruption sending a cascade of molten rage across the rocky surface.
Green flames flickered on their gnarled branches of trees that bore no leaves, casting eerie shadows that flickered with malevolent intent.
